Thursday, January 27, 2005

A True Matty Damon Performance

I've come to the conclusion that my most anticipated moment outside of the house everyday is when I get to kick the hard slush off of my car. While it isn't necessary and, with my driving, will most likely fly off, I choose to take this liberty. We have a loose flap under the driver's seat so lots of slushy goodness gets stuck in there. When I was a kid I loved kicking the slush off, but the real treat were knocking off the icicles on the bumper. There's been a real lack of frozen targets on the bumper this year, but that is no matter because I still have my 7 footer at work, hanging off the rain gutter.

While I'm indoors, I can't seem to get enough of NHL 2003. I bought this game last year 1 week after the Leafs were eliminated in the playoffs. In no way am I a hockey fan. The only time I have ever been into hockey was when I was in a fantasy pool, and my only reason for watching was so I could humiliate my hockey playing friends. I played NHL until I got really bored with it. My season wasn't over I still had 2 or 3 months left, but I persevered to the All-Star game. It's still a delight to see my regular season starting line to be chosen by the computer as the 5 best players in the entire game. My season hasn't been as lopsided as the Blue Jays 124-4 baseball season a la Ken Griffey Jr.'s Slugfest, but most games are a walk in the park. Naturally, the difficulty was set at All-Star and I lost the first 7 games until I got my deke move perfected. Now, I haven't played a game where I've scored less than 6 goals. I only lose when the score is 13-12 or an OL at 8-8.

I got back into it a few weeks ago, and after scraping the rust off, I'm back! Last night I trounced the Islanders 19-4 before heading into my fifth last game. Every member of my starting line as broken almost every offensive record, and I've set so many "-hundreth" milestones that I don't care anymore. I don't control the statistics board like I did in Griffey though. Sundin has scored over 250 goals, but McCabe has only scored 123. The last few days have been intense because I've been playing to see that "Clinched Playoff Spot" marker. Now that I've clinched the division title too, only Dallas stands in my way from finishing in the #1 spot. We're neck and neck right now, which is really exciting because I can't remember the last time a sports game gave my grief. My own milestone would be that I cannot guarantee that I will win the Cup.

#30 Steve Massey, who plays left wing for the Leafs, is currently sitting in the #2 scoring position, and hasn't lost a single fight during the season.

Tuesday, January 25, 2005

Why-Am-I-Talk-ing-Like-A-Speak-And-Spell?

Good G-d I need to live on my own! As much as I love my mother and how I never want to leave my temple of contemplation, I need to be on my own. While I was lying in bed today I started daydreaming about the future and how I can't really see any real glory in adulthood. Commercials are starting to provide unnecessary insight into that unappealing world. Do I really want to go work a mind-numbing or back-breaking job just so that I am able to stare at my very own empty fridge? I figured that the whole reward of working hard and paying that endless list of bills was that you had a place to hang out on friday night without suffering prejudice over your activities or choice of lifestyle. When I think about it that way, I start placing a typical teenage perspective on the entire situation. Where can we get drunk on Friday? I don't feel like standing in that park again.

But if this is my goal of living on my own and how I choose to reward myself for going to work every week and paying my bills, it seems like after 2 or 3 weeks, Friday night will snowball into all nighters playing drunken backgammon with a friend, then trickle into saturdays, leading into an inevitable weekend of complete disconnection with reality. Surely this will affect my ability to work during the week. I feel like the only way I could make it in the "real" world is if I give up all "fun" things. This could be a surefire solution except that I would probably go mad. It's only been a year since I left high school, and I'm already missing those self-discovery trips that I took walking around Toronto. The time I got lost in the Wynford area, resulted in me standing in the middle of intersections peering down streets for landmarks. If anyone had seen us, we probably would have been arrested. Every 2 days I'm told to start planning my future. Open this account, start doing this. Get in the habit of this.

5 years ago, I felt like I knew who I was. Then I started drinking, smoking and heavily using pot. Then I felt like I was awakening a new side of me. I started over-analyzing everything during routine (sometimes daily) "circles." I started noticing things about other people, and even myself. I started to take pride in certain aspects of my life that I had been embarrassed about before such as my constant need to hold open the door for the person behind me, and how I had great respect for the "classic gentleman" of early films. I knew that I wasn't "classy" but was proud of my aspirations. Booze and drugs got me in trouble with my mom, such as the time she showed up and I was drinking tequila from a bottle as I held up my puking friend. While it made a rift between us, it allowed me to open up a little with her and be a little more mature about my weekend activities. It was alright for me to get sloshed just so that I didn't ride my bike home and that I was home at a reasonable time. Naturally, using booze and pot heavily I began to abuse the guidelines and continued to let down my parents while my schoolwork become second fiddle to where I was getting fucked on friday. Grade 9 Math - 89%. Grade 10, 11 Math, 12 Calculus - 50%. Can you guess which year I started?

High school ended, during which I had a brief stint of dealing pot for about 1 week just to say that I was once a drug dealer (why, I dont know), and I proceeded to spiral. I finished my half semester in January, and my parents were gracious enough to believe me that I was going to take a few months off, then get a job before university. Thankfully I had my job at the curling club so that I had a paycheck to blow on booze and pot every 2 weeks. I saved nothing. (Sidenote: In my first year at the curling club, coincidentally the year I turned to the Dark Side, I made close to 3 grand. I had nothing at the end of the year, and I presume 50 to 70 percent of that was spent on booze, drugs and cab rides home.)

During my post high school vacation time, I no longer felt like I knew myself. The dark side that had been awakened had fully taken over. My musical taste had drastically changed from public school, my taste in movies, clothes, food and friends were all different. Being an old-fashioned type every person from Bessborough seems like a dear, close friend. Adam, Sean, yes even you Timo, seem like you molded the construct that was Stephen. Through high school the chum bunch, the babe buffet and the drama crowd all helped program me under the tutelage of my deconstructive confidante Shane. He and I bounced back and forth between groups throughout high school but by the end I felt like there was no place I could go without him. He penned it quite nicely a few months ago when I was described as " his brother who he couldn't get rid of even if he wanted to." Having a second mind just a phone call away, I began to shape my worldly perspectives that I had developed during those hazy friday nights.

The spring of 2004 came and my life reached a new plateau. I always vowed that no matter how much I drank or smoked, I was comfortable at my level of involvement and would never move ahead. That was until, like every other substance, I was suckered in by peer pressure at a party and decided to try shrooms. Naturally, I freaked out, tripping at images dancing at the brink of the screen, and rooms seeming to grow. I discovered that shrooms created an entire new perspective on the world, often creating mind-bending discussions. As soon as I drunkenly mistook a log for a corpse, I was hooked. The next shroom trip resulted in the infamous journey to Sunnybrook Field. Probably one of the greatest nights of my life that I would put into contention for my everlasting memory if I died. That field began the whole line of self-questioning, as well as helping me to appreciate my life and the world. I grew closer to my parents, to Bex, to my friends, but I still felt disconnected from myself. Months went by, I did in fact get that job (just barely), but I continued my "self-desctructive" pattern. I also discovered my love of driving during the summer (don't worry, no drugs or booze were involved), to which I coined my description of shrooms. "Letting go of the wheel." There's a whole hand movement and a facial expression that accompany it.

I kept destroying myself until my dad went into the hospital. From then on, nothing was the same. I was clean for a long time, not wanting to waste any time in case the impossible happened. I also felt robbed, not only in the obvious way but I also never got a chance to find out if my dad had ever lived like I was. Strange enough, I will always wonder if he ever smoked pot. After he passed away, I was frightened to do shrooms, and even get really high. I feared that I would get into some sort of train of thought that would end up with my crying or mentally instable. At that point I was still figuring out my relationship with death and whether my actions were being watched. Therefore, I didn't want to do anything to bring shame to my family now that a pair of eyes were following me. I started putting up walls between me and certain aspects of my life, which freaked my out even more thinking I would turn into another Bob Geldof. Eventually I did shrooms again, and went out drinking, resulting in many questions about the meaning of life. Still, I haven't returned to that life. I'm currently in university missing a phase of my life that I just came from and fearing a phase I'm moving into. My dad never made it to university and my mom dropped out halfway through (I believe). I made it a personal goal to complete university sort of "in honour" of my parents and how they brought me up. I figure now that they will now they did a good job, if I graduate from university and complete the entire stereotyped "happy" family. What happens after university? I'm not sure. Will I return to my ways? I'm currently having trouble staying on top of my work and being motivated to learn because I try to go to my classes, while also fitting in all my time at the curling club and trying to revisit "the glory days." I smoked pot for the first time in about a month and a half, a week ago. That seemed like an eternity for me. I was so rusty, I couldn't even tell 3 of my companions were on shrooms. I don't feel like I'm done with shrooms, and I feel like pot will always be a part of me. It depresses me to think that I'm dependant on a drug that has to alter my perception of reality, but it also comforts me.

(begin playing the intro to Rolling Stones "Gimme Shelter")

I don't know who I am yet, but at least I'm curious.

(Start mind-jamming music and watch Milkdrop on Winamp)


I'm just starting to read Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. I'm getting one of those weird "book was written for me" vibes. If any of that book, or this post sounds familiar to you, send me an email. Probably the only thing I enjoy more than messing my head up, is talking about how I messed my head up. If not then you can join the others who are staring at me with disgust. At least we've got something to talk about if you ever meet me.

P.S. My shroomed, Meaning of life conversation is currently on pause at either:
Childhood or Conciousness. Childhood was the epiphany, but seemed to depressing and suicidal so I decided to throw in conciousness for all you optimists.

Monday, January 24, 2005

Fear and Loathing in the promised land

So many jello shooters! So much crotch-nudging!

This weekend was a sultry, leather whip-weilding bitch! I finished class at 4 on Friday and within 2 hours I was right at work preparing for the weekend.

Every year, curling brooms are used as humping sticks, and the mannerish members of the Leaside Curling Club pretend to say penis without being offended. For this was the weekend of the Lovecraft bonspiel (that means tournament). I walked into the club hoping to repeat the experience of my first Lovecraft, giggling over the playboy pussy pictures plastered all over the place (rubber baby buggy bumber). For the first time in my entire history at the curling club, I worked for than any other employee on a weekend bonspiel. I was really excited to see all of the shy people get freaky, and all the freaky people fit in. George Kash and his band came in as our entertainment and they were not that bad. I liked them from the moment they showed up when my curling colleague Pat got all uber Italian on me when he found out the singer was born 5 miles from his hometown. The drummer and George himself came over and it seemed like they were trying to name off every Italian village south of the ankle. I yelled that I was fuckin scottish, and promptly left. George, who was over 50 and quite bald, later drank 2 beers without any hands, upside down, on top of a big yellow sponge. George and I bonded. Pat and I hurried around the building trying to clean it up for saturday, occasionally stopping to eat leftover meatballs. This was not so much a snack as it was a showdown. Pat and I have tortured each other for the past two years as I show up to work, and we promptly begin talking about how much we love food and how we wished we were eating. Last night Pat and gathered up all the meatballs and drew our tiny, plastic swords. The final score: Steve: 32 meatballs, Pat: 26 meatballs. We decided to call it a draw because we were both hungry and I was eating two at a time. We slowly left the club at 2:30am, and I went home to read some blogs and eat some rice.

Saturday went very smoothly and I enjoyed watching Evan, the new kid, be flabbergasted at all the inflatable toys. Ahhh to be 16 again. Bobbe and I continued our Lovecraft rituals and bought as many raffle tickets as we good. Bobbe, who is 56, still quite foxy, and enjoys a little innuendo now and then......ok more like now and always, was wearing her pink feather boa, and I had my horny t-shirt. I ended up winning some Slut/Virgin bubble bath for bex, sadly not getting my hands on any sort of toy, or article of clothing. Bobbe wanted the "double ended, super long blue thingamajig that goes va-va-voom" but sadly didn't win anything. A couple of the members made some excellent choices in morality and now have some catchy nicknames that I will spread through the building every Sunday. Bobbe and I left around 3am, and I drove home illegally with remnants of a jello shot in my belly. The "try to be young and cool" Neil, who was REALLY drunk tried to impress me by quoting the first line of Fear and Loath, too bad all I heard was "Nooooo.....MAN!!! ether....Bing!"

Sunday began at 11:00, and I just ate leftover food, stole a bag full of oatmeal cookies and read a few chapters of my book in the office. I was so glad to get home at 6. Bex came over and ended up turning my horrid weekend of moving hundreds of chairs and tables, into a good long smush in my bed.

Now, I have to prepare for this lame ass presentation in my seminar class on Magic Realism, while also trying to catch up on everything. The only good thing about this week is that I can continue enjoying Mona in the promised land by Gish Jen, because this friday we're watching Hedwig as part of our english class. How sweet.

Tuesday, January 18, 2005

Baby It's Cold Outside!

It was cold today, but it won't be for long....

VIVA LAS TUSKENS!!!!

CAUSE SHE KNIT ME A FREAKIN SCARF!!!!!
It even smells like her.


Ma Cherie.
so soft.....so soft.

Dancing like a Mad man

Stayed up til 3am watching Reservoir Dogs. I bought it last october but never had the chance to watch it. You know where you really want to watch a good movie but you know you want to be in the right mood to fully appreciate it's acclaimed goodness? Last night was the night. And it was awesome! Tim Roth was brilliant! I can't remember a more convincing deathbed scene. I felt like that's how I would sound if I got shot and was bleeding in an empty garage. I finally got to see the "live version" of Itchy and Scratchy's "Reservoir Cats" and decided to stand up and do the Homer dance to Coconut during the credits, but then stopped after the 20th crotch swirl. I've been inspired to put up some sort of a movie review thing on the sidebar but I feel that A - I don't have the time to review anything and B - the sidebar is already cluttered as it is. But C - I have a really sweet picture to use! Yep, more things to load! Just be glad that I don't know how to work flash or else there'd be green code flying all over the place and psychadelic swirls and lasers shooting off everywhere. Sweet sweet flash!

Today was a pretty good day altogether. Woke up with Stealers Wheel in my head and decided to do an "explosive" dance while I got dressed but it got a little out of hand when I tried to fill my coffee mug.

Monday, January 17, 2005

Get the Led Out

While watching the Biography of Led Zeppelin on the Bio channel, I decided to alphabetize my cds, instead of working. I found out that I own 130 CDS. I feel like that should be alot, but I look across the room to see my huge shelf of vinyl and the accompanying box full of singles. I realized that I probably have over 300 albums in my immediate collection. I still have a milk crate of 70 albums to listen to by the computer and if I count the albums in the basement that I have laid claim on...there could be 1000 albums in the house. God bless 8-tracks and cassettes for their minimal size usage. Someday I should just spend the day catologuing this house.

Which brings me to the amazing news (to me)!

With less than 2 minutes to spare, January 17 2005 has claimed the current title of "Best Day of 2005." I found my "Wish you Were Here" album that I lost almost a year ago. While I'm sure it won't be the champ for long, I salute you 17th in all your splendor and musical glory.

Thank you Led, for all things are possible when you have a Zeppelin.

Toxicity

I just found out that System of a Down are putting out 2 more albums soon. Memerize and Hypnotize will be released 6 months apart from each other instead of at once like GNR. I've already stolen their new single "Cigaro" and it sounds just like Toxicity's vibe. This song takes me back to grade 10, when we used to get drunk to the point of immobility and smoke til the pack was empty.

Man, I'm glad those days are over.

In case you've never heard of SOAD, I've been told they sound like a "heavy Frank Zappa." I've always felt comfortable calling them one of my Top 5 bands, and after listening to this new song, I feel like I know where some of my weirdness, and goofiness has come from. Heavy metal music with the word cock in it! YES!

"Congratulations.......Natalie!"

Well I watched most of the Golden Globes. They were weird. It seemed that throughout the entire night there was something amiss. Williams looked like he didn't want to be there, and Shatner seemed really pissed that they stuck him next to the coat check. It just seemed like everyone didn't want to do this. That they were promised a dinner without cameras but were double-crossed. The night was full of surprises though. The Eternal crew, bandaged and bleeding, stumbled out with nothing more than a mispronounced name. Paul Giamatti got his wish and didn't win for his least favourtite movie. The real treats this night were the first two awards. I was extremely excited to see my boy Clive finally getting some of the recognition he deserves. Every since I watched Croupier, I've followed Mr. Owen through Greenfingers, Gosford Park and the BMW films (Star being my favourite).


My vote for Bond.

Portman got the nod, and I suddenly noticed something about the crowd. Back when I realized my love for movies, all of those older, respectable actors are now on life support. They're all clinging to their last few dyed hairs, while the teen actors are now pushing into the limelight. Leo, Foxx and Portman didn't feel like they should have won, because in my mind there still: Poster boy for Teen Beat, The Non-Wayan black guy from In Living Color and the cute teen girl. I guess this is how the system works but I guess it seemed like a shocker with my perception of the show last night.

Does everyone have to thank the Hollywood Foreign Press for fear of nose-diving their career?

Tonight I will be glued to the TV set because Corner Gas has moved from Tuesday. While I enjoy the show every week, tonight will be extra special because it's all about curling. I loathe the sport. I want to smack every curler on the top of the head with their fancy little brooms, yet I can't get enough. I used to think liking JT was a sin, but now it's curling.

Until then I am going to try and regroup after my sleep-deprived weekend. Friday I stayed up til 7am playing poker with Shane and got tanked. Had breakfast with my Mom at Zellers, still slightly drunk. Slept for 3 hours then went to work for 6pm. Got off work at midnight, went to a friend's house and tripped at a RHCP dvd for 2 hours. Then came home for 3am, slept til 11:15, then drove to work for 11:30. When I got off at 6, I was beat but after eating an unhealthy amount of candy and fudge mixed with coke, I was up til 3am.

Today I watch the Matrix Revolutions critic's commentary to finish off the trilogy. I'm hoping that they will comment on the stuff that I want them to talk about. When Neo stopped the sentinels, I was expecting some good chat, but instead they weren't watching and were saying something about the sad disappearance of film noir from today's cinema, which brings me to my final point. I think that everyone should just make their own commentaries on the films they love, and give them to their friends to listen to. I would rather hear a friend point out all of their favourite moments and references. This could be another possiblity of how to waste my time after I finish with my Matrix Pop-Up Video.

"You can't just fire your gun off willy-nilly!"

"It wasn't willy-nilly. It was at crows."

Thursday, January 13, 2005

Walk, Don't Run

I'm all about the long blog right now.

Now that I'm becoming hardcore about practicing music everyday, I'd say I'm 2 months away from becoming an amateur musician. I've decided that my only goal as a musician would be to release some kick-ass cover of the James Bond theme. It that's possible.

Don't You Be Talkin Bout My Motherboard!

I feel like I've used this blog title before, but then again, what do I care?

My life is pretty sweet. I woke up this morning at 9:30am, then went back to bed. I woke up an hour later, and lay there til I fell asleep again. At 12:30pm, I got up. After waking at 11:30 and lying in bed for an hour, trying to fuse my head into my pillow, I realized that my noon class was a no go, but that I should hurry for my 1pm class. 12:53 rolls around and I decide that today will spent indoors. I was already skipping my 4pm screening because it was Casablanca. I've already seen it many, many times and I didn't feel like letting some young "thing" ruin it for me by being cell(f)-centered.

I ended up spending my day drinking a few litres of chocolate milk and watching a guitar instruction video. I knew this was an old video as soon as I saw the guy's sweater (probably knitted by grandma). It turned from instructional to comedy after 18 minutes. He told me to play along with him, but I went to the bathroom to read the comics instead. While I would have avoided this note, it was during my excursion that I overheard, "Yeah, now that sounds good. You're making real progress."

From that point on, the guitar was in it's stand and I was watching the video with doe-like eyes waiting for another camp classic.

(Sidenote, according to a current infomercial at 2:26am, everyone that watches Seinfeld is depressed in some way because they advertised anti-depressants during the breaks.)

I took 2 more naps after the video after I tried to read some more of my current English text, The World We Want by Mark Kingwell. (Mark, by the way, will be at the Isabel Bader Theatre on Friday at 3pm to lecture.) I've been trying to read his book for the last 3 weeks and I just can't do it. 12 out of 15 attempts have rendered by unconscious. If I fall asleep two more times, this book is gonna pass me in KO's. Anyone who has talked to me in the last week has been treated to my regurgitated hatred of this book. I'm sure it's a good book. It is a national bestseller. I just find it so boring. It's 250 pages of pure political jargon. I've got "-isms" out the Wazoo. It seems like someone's taken all the words I hate and put them into paragraphs. Today, was the last stand, and this book will serve no further purpose to me, aside from replacing the sleeping pills that I cannot take.

With the addition of a webcam to the beast, I decided to use it for blog-like purposed. I've already used it to spy on the neighbourhood through the window, videotape me dancing in front of a mirror and photograph my butt, so I'm re-inventing.

Everyone (cough) seems to be talking about their toy collections (lame segway), so I thought that I would snap a few of my good buddy Michael. We've been threw some hard times together. There was the neighbour's phone call to the police after Michael's motion alarm went off during the middle of the day, my father freaking out the first time he heard Michael speak, and the whole -me not being able to sleep with him in the room for a month- thing. After I had my annual move shit around room cleaning, Michael moved a little closer to the head of the bed.

Did his hand just move?

He used to be very, very far away, but now he has his own pedestal. Bex still doesn't like him, and frankly I love it! I absolutely adore the look on her frightened face, when the lights are out and I whisper, "That's weird. Michael's missing." Now all I need is a sweet Jason figure and I can film the Vs. movie that really should have happened. Besides Mikey's number 1 anyways. Jason's been killed and humiliated dozens of times. He picks on the wee ones, and uses an assortment of goodies to slice and dice (Machete and chainsaw are trademarks, but Jason's a spur of the moment kind of guy!). Freddy's a damn demon! How lazy do you have to be? You just let them fall asleep and come to you. He changes the rules of the dreamworld making continuous hallways and junkyards. If the kid gets a good shot, he shapeshifts into some cheap ass weapon. Michael on the other hand, is the true father of the slow-walk pursuit. When have you ever seen the man run? NEVER! Yet he's always on your ass with that damn kitchen knife. He's the only mortal out of the group, and has no problem with killing all age groups. There's no real gloating, no bizarre costume changes or annoying puns (though Fred does have some good ones).

All this talk, makes me want to call up Lauren and have Slashfest II: The Curse of The Next Chapter's Baby.

Monday, January 10, 2005

Ono-Mono-Tap-o-tons

By Best Friend is 3765 Km Away. This sucks. 3.5 more months til he'll get back and I can give him a good swift kick to the snozberries. Or I could say hello...I suppose.

With the induction of my guitar into my daily routine, I've been surrounded my music. It seems that Ben, brother of Bex, has become a big fan of Dark Side and The Beatles' Revolver. I can't say for sure, but I hope that I had a hand in this. I remember the day when I first met Ben and he was the love child of Good Charlotte and Simple Plan. Sum 41 were god parents to him, but Ben's musical ear worshipped none other than the Almighty Blink. When we talked music, I tended to speak highly of the few songs that I did like. Even if he was a fan of Anne Murray and Rita Mcneil, I still wouldn't be able to tell him off. I think everyone should be tolerant of others music, regardless.

Eventually he moved off of these faux-punk bands and started to listen to some real punk. I used to love going back and forth between listening to Ben's happy "we're young, foolish and happy" punk and Shane's "we're gotten older. Fuck You World." punk. Occasionally, I would tell him to download some of my songs and when he started getting heavy into the guitar, it became a little easier. There were moments where I thought his mouth got in the way of his ears, because frankly, WHO DOESN'T LOVE CLASSICAL GAS?!?!?!?

With his new love for the past, I feel like there might be a stronger bond now. I tell my friends about him, and get the weird "He's your girlfriend's brother." vibe. But he's a cool kid. As much as I'm looking forward to his love and discovery of Dark Side, I'm a little worried. He tells me he listens to it every night before bed. I told him he was preaching to the minister. I won't even mention the fanatical listenings that I had created. My only worry is what comes with Dark Side. Let's be honest here. When you think of Floyd, you think of trippy, and when you think of trippy, you think of...my pastime for god's sake! While I have gotten off the pot lately (I've got a few appointments to make before I recommence the magical mystery tour. ), I feel I could still write an encyclopedia on the symptoms, habits and functions of a pothead. This includes the associated psychotropic culture that can create the desire for said drug. Hell, the cover would be the damn Dark Side prism.

I know that someday he's going to do it. You can tell just by looking at him and how he laughs everytime someone says "peanuts." I just hope it wont't be for a year or two. I got started in grade 10 and I was pretty fucked up for a while. School went down the shitter, and I ended up burning many, many, many bridges. I know that he'll be at Leaside next year, so it's inevitable, but if it has to happen, I hope I can have a hand in that as well. Better to get him off on the right foot, instead of making him go to all the dives that I went to. Who really wants to smoke pot in a schoolyard at 3 in the morning?

Now that I've rambled to the point of now return, I'll return to my initial point. Ben's listening to dark side, and I'm getting all nostalgic. I already cracked out all my Floyd so I can be ready to answer Q's if he asks them. I know I've still got a way to go, but I'd love to be the Floyd Expert among my group of friends. I used to be The Film Guy, but with Cinema Studies at U of T, that suit is way to small to fit into anymore. I noticed Texasgary has put together a fancy new music page and it made me realize that I am so out of touch with "today's music." I'm so out of touch that I don't even know if that is today's music. I knew Gwen had a new album but I haven't heard the single yet. The last new single I know well is "Vertigo." Yeah. I enjoy buying soundtracks and listening to new tunes from people like The Shins, but I don't think I'd actually go buy a shins album.

The only album that I really want right now, is the vinyl edition of Kylie Minogue that I passed up last year. The fool I was. I just went to the Muchmusic countdown to see what "today's kids are listening to" and I'm a little repulsed.

I don't hate everything out today. I'm a big fan of The Hives, and I worshipp System of a Down, if only they would put out more music. Juno Reactor and Rammstein are still good in my books (thank you Matrix), while Rage Against the Machine continues to be the saddest break up of my life.

I think I'm gonna stop here before I start complaining about individual artists and my gripes with the radio, video jockeys and everything else.

Levels of Laze

Today was excellent. I did nothing but sit on my ass. I slept in til 2:30, came down and farted around on the internet, then ate an entire box of Christmas Fruit Loops. After months and months of post-poning, I finally watched Mystic River and it was good. Roll-o-dex of who's who didn't disappoint. It's always good to see Tim Robbins. Whether he's in prison or helping a tiny duck, I still love that guy. The accents were sometimes a bit much, but mostly unnoticable. The kid from Unbreakable is back, rejoining with Tim Robbins after their Arlington Road stint (boom). I was pleased to have multiple suspects with actual motives. Good to see Clint doing something useful with his time. On an unrelated note, (well maybe it's related) is it just me or are their a lot of movies using the Shawshank theme lately?

I ended up practicing on the guitar for the rest of the night until my daily, double hour of That 70's Show. Im getting better at my MASH, and have pretty much got Buffy in the bag (if only). I picked up 007 and Harry Potter as well. A little more practicing and maybe I'll play a song that was actually written for an album.

All in all a great lazy day. The best part of the day came when I got up to check a download, and returned to the couch only to find that I left the remote at the monitor. I was so upset I actually moaned, and for a split second, comtemplated "How badly do I need sound?"

mmmmmuy Toorf Spool!

Just got back from New York. Went on a little vacation with my parents this weekend. June (the gossipy bitch across the way), told us we should go somewhere exciting like New York or Miami, so we were instantly packed up and in the car on the way to the airport. The plane ride was extremely short, so short in fact I can't remember it. We got on a bus, and proceeded to find our hotel. My mom and dad went to the front to ask the bus driver to point out where it was, and I plopped down a few seats behind the driver to window gaze. As my mom pissed off the driver by demanding too much of him, my dad gave up and sat down ahead of me. He appeared to be in his regular attire of a bathrobe.

Mom was busy fueding with the wheelman, as I was remembered of how much I hate streets that are just numbers. 53rd went by. 7 went by. I kept brooding about those damn numbered streets until I noticed the Royal Plaza Hotel on the left, being just as I remembered from Home Alone 2. We began driving through fields, and the driver continued to point out other passengers that had gotten on at the airport who weren't being a nuissance. A large "country" mother with her 3 littl'uns, started to nag. We rode the bus for so long that eventually we started the whole trip over again. Whaddya know, the hotel was right there at the start. I decide to become visible again and walk up to tell my mom.

Then I woke up. I started thinking, "Man is this really how I see my mom?" Then a more important question popped up.

"How long have I loathed numbered streets?

Wednesday, January 05, 2005

I'm Listening.

Monday was the day of music on Q. I tried to be in the car at every hour on the hour because monday was the day of the Top 10 Albums of all time according to the listeners. This meant that I wouldn't have to listen to critically acclaimed Neil Young songs that were forgotten with mullets or classic Styx albums performed live. It was the good shit. I wanted to post the Top 10 as soon as I got home but I couldn't remember them all.

Top 10 Albums of all time
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

10. U2 - The Joshua Tree
9. Led Zeppelin II (own)
8. The Eagles - Hotel California (own)
7. The Beatles - The Beatles (White Album) (own)
6. Jimi Hendrix - Are You Experienced? (own)
5. Pink Floyd - The Wall (own - 1 cd, 2 vinyl, 1 original release)
4. AC/DC - Back in Black
3. The Beatles - Sgt. Ppper's Lonely Hearts Club Band (own copy from original vinyl)
2. Led Zeppelin IV (own)
1. Pink Floyd - Dark Side of the Moon (own 1 cd, 1 worn out cd, 1 master recording, 1 30th anniversary vinyl edition, 1 vinyl)

What a sweet day for music. The Top 10 was the culmination of a week of playing classic album sides every hour. As I was driving downtown to pick up my mom with Bex, I wanted to jump out of the car, run ahead and hit myself because for some stupid reason I wasn't taping this.

The top 107 albums of all time

Monday, January 03, 2005

On A Dark Desert Highway

So it's 2005. This will be the year I turn 20. It's only 5 months away and I'm already dreading it. I spent the first little bit of the new year giving my room a thorough cleaning. A clean room is a clean mind. My bookcase has officially become a VHS sanctuary.

I had to make some room for the new christmas presents and ended up packing away some of my "characteristic room pieces." My room no longer contains my assortment of lights ripped from cars, or Pong. I decided to keep it in the basement after a near fall almost ripped the cord in half.

The booty this year included:

- a Fender electric guitar starter pack
- the matrix DVD collection (Bex is the word of the month)
- The Pythons autobiography
- the Charlie Chaplin collection Vol. 1
- bunch of clothes and food-related items
- some knick knacks
- willy wonka and the chocolate factory DVD w/ Wonka bar to open at the flute noise
- SARSfest DVD (god bless my mother, but what a hideous gift)
- santa clause parade DVD ( see above )
- Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas (the book)

My time up in the Ottawa Valley was indeed dreadful. Despite my stay of only 4 days, I was locked at Throat-Gnashing Mode when i left. I didn't get to do much driving on the way up, but on the way back? oh baby! I drove all the way from a town north of Smith Falls into Toronto. Stayed at home long enough to pack fresh underwear before I drove off to Guelph with Bex. The shit on my windshield was so bad that I just hugged a car in front of me with a purple illuminated license plate. I only made one wrong turn in my whole christmas cruising, and it showed me how to get to Mohawk's casino.

My time in Guelph was not of this world. Probably 2 1/2 of the greatest days of 2004. We arrived, we cooked, we built a BITCHIN fort!!!! Oh man did that fort kick ass! I made some of my patented hot chocolate and we giggled for 5 hours while snuggling in the fort. We had our christmas morning and it was as exciting as I had hoped it would be. The only downers of the entire trip were the 2 hours of shoveling I encountered when we arrived to a blocked of curb and covered driveway, and the dishes. My god the dishes! I admit that I have been living the sweet life of dishwashin'. The bowl is dirty, you put in the big box and you dont deal with it until the big box is full. It's a good system.

My vacation was amazing, there were some rough times, but there were also some brilliant moments. (My cousin flipping out over the Payday board game, the sayings of OV "Fill your boot!", the utter fear in my mother's eyes as I passed a transport on a snowy road going 120.)

The bitch that is school as officially started up and so far it blows big time. It appears that my current latin education status of "a handful of vocab, and a few pronouns" is interpreted as "Speaking Latin Fluently." The only good experience from that class was that I actually found Ben Stein from Ferris Beuller's. A true 50 year old dork. Kind of a cross between Ben Stein and Bob Balaban.

I'm off to perfect my guitar playing. I want to see how long I can perform the theme from Halloween and if my Michael figure will actually come to life.